


You don't know me (Are you willing to?)

by CheetahLeopard2



Series: White Collar/Batman fics [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Identity Reveal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 14:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30023505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheetahLeopard2/pseuds/CheetahLeopard2
Summary: Neal reveals his identity to Peter by stumbling through the door with his boyfriend“Neal,” Peter returns, tone even and low, “Why’re you,” he hesitates, “associatingwith someone who carries a gun? Who is this?”“Why’re ya here?” Jason asks, voice rough and low, pissed but not quite threatening.“You first,” Peter snaps, “Or I’ll have you arrested for threatening an FBI agent.”“Boo fuckin’ hoo,” Jason says, “good luck wit’ that.”
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: White Collar/Batman fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025266
Comments: 19
Kudos: 164
Collections: Undercover Bats





	You don't know me (Are you willing to?)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to the [Undercover Bats](https://discord.gg/SnjTSuvtds) discord server

\----

Peter’s been waiting in Neal’s apartment for far longer than he should have to wait, to the point he’s considering looking up his tracking data, when he finally hears footsteps outside.

\---

Tim pushes Jason back into the apartment, kicking the door close behind them and panting into his mouth as he re-maps it with his tongue. Jason whines as he drags the tip across the roof of his mouth in harsh swipes, and Tim groans in response.

He needs him in his mouth 3 seconds ago.

Tim’s hands grip Jason’s hips almost hard enough to bruise, and he forcefully turns them, all but throwing Jason against the door, pinning him with his hands on his hips as Jason arches his back, eyes rolling closed and head slamming back against the door with a panted, “Fuck, Tim.”

Tim wastes no time dropping to his knees, Jason’s hand tangling in his hair as he scrabbles at the jeans Jason’s straining against.

Then there’s a sound from behind him, further in the apartment. Jason’s away from the door, gun out and pointed at the intruder in seconds, Tim on his feet and pushed behind him.

“Who the _fuck_?” says a _very_ familiar voice, and Tim _thunks_ his head between Jason’s shoulderblades.

“Peter,” he whines, “Why are you such a cockblock?”

“Neal,” Peter returns, tone even and low, “Why’re you,” he hesitates, “ _associating_ with someone who carries a gun? Who is this?”

“Why’re ya here?” Jason asks, voice rough and low, pissed but not quite threatening.

“You first,” Peter snaps, “Or I’ll have you arrested for threatening an FBI agent.”

“Boo fuckin’ hoo,” Jason says, “good luck wit’ that.”

Tim taps Jason’s shoulderblade twice, “Stand down, Hood.”

Jason grumbles, but does as he’s asked, and Neal steps out from behind him to face Peter, who’s flabbergasted, sitting at the table with case files in front of him and a hand halfway to a holster he doesn’t have on him.

 _You know what? Fuck it,_ he decides. He has permission to share his ID with Peter and El, Diana already knows.

“Peter, this is Red Hood,” Neal says, checking over his shoulder quickly to see Jason’s reaction, which is to reholster his gun.

It still warms his heart, every time Jason expresses trust in him like this. Jason brings his hand up to Neal’s shoulder, pulling him back a bit, so his back is pressed to Jason’s side. Neal goes willingly, and adds, “My boyfriend.”

Peter looks a bit like he’s been hit in the face with a brick. Tim knows the feeling.

“Wh-” Peter stutters, sinking back into his chair, “since when?”

“Five years, give or take,” Neal answers, allowing himself to fidget a bit with his hands. It’s better to betray his nerves to Peter.

‘Five years,’ Peter mouths to himself, staring at Neal like he’s a stranger.

 _Which,_ Tim reflects, _isn’t far off_.

“But,” Peter pauses, collecting his wits, “You hate guns?” it comes out as a question rather than a statement. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“In the wrong hands,” Neal agrees easily enough, pulling Jason along with him to sit at the table.

“And the hands of a gotham crime lord are the right hands?” Peter snaps, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

They let him compose himself, before Jason, barely managing to keep the amusement out of his tone, says, “If it helps, ’m well past th’ crime lord shtick. They took me off th’ wanted list and everythin’.”

Peter pauses, turning to Neal with something burning in his eyes, “He called you Tim.”

Neal nods, slowly, not knowing where Peter’s going with this.

“Is Neal even your real name?” Peter asks, gaze searching for a fake man in Tim’s eyes.

“No,” Tim answers, softly, evenly, “It’s not.”

Peter stands abruptly, rubbing his hand over his mouth and pacing.

Jason rubs at Neal’s arms, the tension in his frame the only indication of his fear. The fear of losing Peter and the life he’s built here.

He might have miscalculated, and it might cost him dearly.

“My real name is Tim,” Tim says, an offering.

“Is that it?” Peter asks, a harsh, incredulous laugh barked out, “Not even a last name?”

“I’m Red Robin,” Tim answers, almost mechanically as he watches everything he’s worked to build in New York begin to crumble, “Giving you my full name could have disastrous consequences.”

“How well-known could you be that-” Peter’s voice is shrill, loud and grating as Tim flinches minutely, before it cuts off and he stills.

“Tim Drake-Wayne,”Peter breathes out in shock, and Jason’s arm around Tim tenses as Peter drops back into his chair like a puppet with all its strings cut.

“You’re that CEO,” Peter breaths, and Tim watches, silent, waiting.

Shaking.

“Tim,” Peter breaths, finally meeting Tim’s gaze again. Tim nods, waiting.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“When the mission ends,” Tim says, softly, words hanging in the air between them. Gently, because a harsh word here could bring everything down, “I would’ve told you about Red Robin.”

Peter shakes his head, sneers incredulously, “When the mission ends.”

Tim flinches, again, feeling like Jason’s warmth against the side of his thigh, across his shoulders, is the only thing holding him together.

“When would the mission end, Tim?” Peter asks, “When you got bored?”

“No,” Tim rushes to correct, “I’m trying to loosen the hold of the LOA on the FBI, it would end when they’re mostly gone.”

“The LOA?” Peter asks, and Tim hesitates.

Jason answers for him, “The League of Assassins.” There’s a challenge in Jason’s voice, daring Peter to do something to hurt Tim.

Tim knows Peter could do so all too easily, and so does he.

“That’s some deep shit you’ve found yourself in,” Peter says after a moment, shaking his head.

“It’s not too bad.” Tim says, and he’s not trying to convince himself.

“Fine,” Peter says, propping his elbows on the table and leaning in, “Tell me about it.”

Tim tilts his head in question, and Peter huffs through his nose.

“The mission.”

Tim nods, almost disbelieving. This went poorly, but…

But maybe, things just might turn out alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!!


End file.
